


What Kind of Man Would it Take to Attract Sherlock Holmes?

by vince_noir



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vince_noir/pseuds/vince_noir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot Johnlock. John discovers exactly who is Sherlock's "area."</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Kind of Man Would it Take to Attract Sherlock Holmes?

**Author's Note:**

> Unbrit-picked. Proofread, but very lazily.

Sherlock Holmes stood over his kitchen table, drinking a coffee and mulling over some evidence from a particularly interesting case. He flipped over the swatch of material he'd found at the crime scene. He was studying the stain in the upper lefthand corner when his flatmate broke the silence. "Would you ever get married?"

"Same sex marriage isn't legal in the United Kingdom, John." Sherlock said distractedly. He was certain that stain was from-

"I didn't mean you and me." John replied with a soft chuckle.

"I didn't either." Sherlock said. He was beginning to get frustrated with the interruptions to his work.

"Oh," John looked at him quizzically, " _oh_." Sherlock's meaning set in abruptly.

"What does that mean?" Sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow, but he kept the rest of his face intentionally blank.

"I just... I didn't know you were interested in men." John's mind raced as he tried to fit the pieces together. Had Sherlock ever shown an interest in men? That night he first moved in, Sherlock had said women weren't his "area," but he had assumed  _nobody_  was Sherlock's area. 

"Does it bother you?"

"No! I've just never seen you with anyone. I didn't think you looked at people that way."

"Just because I don't parade my partners around the apartment like you do doesn't mean I haven't any."

"So you have a boyfriend?" John was beginning to feel his face burn. How had he not known this? Was it even any of his business? Why did it matter so much to him to know? 

"Not currently." Sherlock told him, and went back to studying his swatch of material. John understood this to mean that the conversation was over and went back to eating his lunch. John's mind wandered to thoughts of Sherlock in a relationship. Was Sherlock a romantic? John couldn't imagine that. What kind of man would it take to attract Sherlock Holmes? Probably nobody interested Sherlock long enough for him to "parade around the apartment." As John's mind wandered, he began to wonder about other things that were _definitely_ not his business. Was Sherlock a top? Was he gentle in bed? Was he dominant in bed as he was in everything else? John imagined elegant fingers entwined with his own, and plush lips against his throat. A warm tongue tracing designs along his skin. The feel of urgency as he popped open black buttons from a white shirt. John was snapped back to reality by a rattling noise: his fork had fallen out of his fingers. Sherlock was staring at him now. "Are you okay, John?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Just tired. Long hours at the surgery. I guess I was nodding off." John could see that Sherlock didn't believe him, and he hoped to God he wouldn't press the point.

"You look flushed. Do you have a fever?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He began to walk over to John, but John stood up and quickly began to back up into the living room. Sherlock felt a moment of panic well up in him. "John?"

"I-I just remembered I have to be at the surgery this afternoon. I'll see you tonight, Sherlock."

Sherlock watched as John pulled on his coat and practically ran out of the flat. He felt a strange tugging sensation in his heart. Had he been wrong to tell John? He had assumed John would be okay with it. His sister was a lesbian, after all. Unless he had misread the signs and that was why John wasn't very close to Harry. Sherlock sat at the chair next to him and stared at John's abandoned plate. No, when they had met, John was asking about his relationship status, and he had told him it was fine to have a boyfriend. Did John really think he had been celibate all this time while he flew through women like dirty socks? Apparently. Sherlock knew most of those relationships failed because the women felt like they weren't John's first priority. He had noticed John had a type too. When he had first started dating after moving in, he hadn't been picky in looks, but as time went on Sherlock had spotted a pattern of tall, dark haired women. They were usually smartly dressed with tight fitting suits and trench coats, and _oh_. Sherlock's mind screeched to a halt. Had he missed the obvious simply because John had denied it? If Sherlock was honest, he'd have to admit the few relationships he had attempted since John moved in had followed a similar pattern. All of his recent sexual conquests had been short and blond, but hardly intelligent enough or adventurous enough to kept his attention. Simply put, they weren't John Watson, and that wasn't good enough for Sherlock.

Sherlock tried to focus on his work, but it was difficult when his mind kept wandering back to John. It was half ten and Sherlock was beginning to worry John wasn't coming home. He was about to go to bed when he heard the lock click and the door open. He listened to the footsteps as they stumbled up the stairs. John was home, and John was very drunk. Sherlock stood in front of his bedroom door, debating on whether or not he wanted to face John drunk. Sherlock slipped into his bedroom, and decided he was going to sit on his bed and re-read a book on body language that he had bought himself at twelve. Of course, it was something he had long ago committed to memory, and he had since learned it was full of complete rubbish. But it was a distraction, and if he tried, he might even find humour in how bad it was. When John made it to the living room, Sherlock heard his name called out, but he didn't respond, opting instead to focus on how to tell if a person is interested in you at a bar. How had he ever thought this could be useful? 

The footsteps were moving towards Sherlock's room, and there was an uneasy sense of anticipation as he waited for John to find him. "Why are you reading in here?" John asked, slurring his words and moving towards the bed.

"I was just unwinding before going to sleep." Sherlock hoped John would get the hint that he wasn't welcome in his room tonight. 

"It's too early for you to sleep." John's tone was accusing. 

"I've had a long day. I see you had a lot to do at the surgery." Sherlock threw back. When John sat on his bed, Sherlock jerked away. John looked at him searchingly, his mind slowed by the alcohol, but he eventually made it to the realisation that Sherlock was angry with him. 

"Sherlock, I didn't-"

"Go to work today? That was quite obvious, John. If I make you so uncomfortable, you're free to leave without telling lies." John's face fell, and his mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words for it. "I don't want to discuss this, John. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Now wait a minute," John's voice was raising, "I didn't leave because of what you said-"

"You left because you suddenly remembered important work at the bottom of a bottle."

John's eyes narrowed. "I left because I thought if you were interested in men that maybe I finally had a chance and that scared the hell out of me. " John's eyes went wide as the words hung between them. He began to get off the bed, but Sherlock grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer. Sherlock pressed his lips firmly against John's, and for once the noise in his head quieted, and the information continuously racing around stilled. John tasted like cheap beer and and it was terrible, but Sherlock couldn't think of a time he enjoyed a kiss more. He felt John's hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt. 

"You're drunk."

"Oh please, don't pretend like you're taking advantage of me." John growled, biting at Sherlock's earlobe. 

"That's hardly the case, John."

"Then what is?" 

"I'm not going to be your gay experiment, just because you're drunk and horny."

John looked confused. "But you kissed me. You started this."

"And now I'm stopping it; I made a mistake. If you feel the same way when you're sober, we can talk about it in the morning." John huffed, and left Sherlock alone in bed.

Sherlock woke up at 3am to John opening the bedroom door again. He pretended to be asleep, even when John whispered his name. John had sobered up and changed into pyjamas, which seemed to be a good sign. He felt the opposite side of his bed sink under John's weight. Sherlock stayed very still, and tried to keep his breathing even. John laid down, and wrapped an arm around Sherlock. "What are you doing here?" 

"You said if I felt the same way when I sobered up, we could talk about it in the morning. Well, it's morning and I'm sober, but I'd rather sleep together than talk about it." Sherlock relaxed into John's arms and nodded.

"That's a far better idea. I should have thought of that."


End file.
